


turning back to you

by lucitae



Category: NU'EST
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, alternative universe, ex idol au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 09:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18753928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/lucitae
Summary: When Aron's career, bonds between brothers, and life as he has known it for ten years comes crashing down — he does the only thing he knows: he runs.When feet tire and his heart no longer feels like it's been torn from his chest, he realizes it might be too late.Or is it?An ex-idol au ifTEMPESThad made their debut and followed a similar ( yet crueler vein ) as pre 2017 Nu'est.





	turning back to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [landfill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/landfill/gifts).



> my love dragged me into this hell hole so if i don't sucker punch him back i can't sleep easy at night.
> 
> it's probably going to be a really boring read and exceptionally slice of life ( watch there be a chapter on filing taxes. i'm here for the realistic shit ). updates will be erratic so don't hold your breath.
> 
> inspired by late night postulations about what it might feel like watching your brothers on national television trying to save your band as well as having one of the closest ones leave you for almost 2 years.

Tomorrow the headline will read Boyband TEMPEST Disbands After 5 Years. In the article it will list something generic, bland, as the reason for their disbandment and how their fans will sorely miss them.

It might have been nice if it was some sort of falling out. At least Aron could have been prepared for this outcome. One member would have left. The rest would wish him well and continue their journey together. It would be sad but they would still be in contact — one way or another. Everyone’s journey ends at some point.

Just not like this.

He remembers the long meetings. Dongho’s broken expression as he blames himself for title tracks that don’t chart well. Jihoon with clenched fists, barely holding himself back from arguing with management. Jonghyun’s stone cold expression with eyes that seem to have aged from all the responsibility he shoulders upon himself.

And Aron who imagines grabbing the CEO by the collar and hollering _it’s your fault for shipping us off to another country_.

He almost does it. His hands are shaking when the CEO folds his hands with finality. But there’s a hand on his thigh, digging into the fabric of his jeans, that holds him back.

Minhyun’s face mimics Jonghyun’s except his eyes are red and glossy.

Aron reaches to cover that hand with his own.

 

 

 

Tomorrow their fans — assuming they have any left — will wake up to this. If they are lucky enough maybe it’ll trend on Naver for a while before the world moves on.

There’s nothing new about a boy band disbanding to the general public.

Their fans will be met with an apology that the company tried their best. ( Fucking bullshit. ) And with this deep seeded appreciation for the fans that have continued to support them to this point ( as if their company cared about anything other than financials ), the fancafe will remain open for one month before it becomes private and inaccessible.

He wonders how long they will mourn before they find the next group to love.

 

 

 

The dorm is empty, much like his life. Some of his members started to look for gigs, hoping to continue to pursue their dreams. Others decide to return home or resume their studies. Live the life of normalcy they missed out on when they sacrificed their youth for their dream.

Linens have been stripped from mattresses. Coat hangers hold nothing as they dangle in closets that were once bursting with outfits. There are no mugs in the sink to clean. No line for the bathroom. The television hasn’t been turned on for days. Just silence.

And Aron.

The tiles are cold but he no longer notices.

His phone lights up with an incoming text. The battery sign an angry red. None of this registers in his head.

Someone clears their throat.

Aron looks up.

“Hey,” it’s gentle but uttered with the tenacity of a leader. “I’m going to...”

Aron nods before Jonghyun can finish his sentence.

He must have finished doing the last checks and would have been the last to leave this space if not for Aron adamance in not budging. Jonghyun furls and unfurls his hands as if debating what he should do next. He looks small like this. Not young, no. Small. The woolen scarf wrapped around his neck about to swallow half his face. There are two large suitcases by his side next to the door.

Just like Doyoon a few days ago.

Just like Minki.

Just like Jihoon.

Just like Dongho.

Just like Seungcheol.

Just like Minhyun.

Aron twists his lips in a semblance of a smile, hoping to reassure Jonghyun that it’s ok. That he’s fine. That he doesn’t have to shoulder the responsibilities of leader anymore trying to rack up a way to cheer a member up. He gives Jonghyun a wave for good measure.

What he doesn’t expect is the way Jonghyun wraps Aron into his arms and clings to him for a minute.

“I’m going to miss you,” Jonghyun says. He sounds small. Like they’re in their teens again and Jonghyun is brimming with anxiety in regards to their debut before they dog piled him to remind him that he wasn’t in this alone.

Except they are now, aren’t they?

Aron pats the back of Jonghyun’s head while giving him a firm squeeze. “We’ll be in touch.”

There’s a childlike nod and one last squeeze before Jonghyun pulls away.

“Thank you,” Jonghyun says as he wipes a stray tear off his cheek.

This time it isn’t a forced smile that surfaces upon Aron’s lips. It twinges but it is also one of endearment.

A final wave.

The door click shuts.

Aron is now utterly alone.

 

 

 

Tomorrow, the group TEMPEST will officially disband. Tonight, the members are disseminated while looking towards different directions.

Except Aron.

Staying doesn’t feel right. Home is a phone call away but then what?

All he has is a letter sitting in his lap. The envelope has creased under his hands from how hard he’s been holding it.

But it is the only thing that makes sense to the world so he goes to a barber and asks him to shave all his hair off.

He runs a hand through his hair when it’s done. He smiles but is unable to meet his reflection in the eye.

 

 

 

Tomorrow TEMPEST disbands. The day after that maybe an idol will finally achieve a quiet enlistment.

 

 

 

2 years later

 

 

 

Aron misses the whir of cicadas in the summer. The clammy heat that had his uniform clinging to his back like a second skin. The grime that stayed plastered to him until the relief of showers. The simpler days. Of friends just chattering and joking to relieve some stress after a long day of drills. They spoke about everything and anything under the sun.

( Just like a group of friends he once had. )

Autumn feels like dread. A warning that winter is coming but even with the advanced notice it never leaves you prepared.

Already, in October, the winds are piercing. Aron wraps the uniform jacket around him tighter, gives one last look at his surroundings, and shoulders his bag. The rest of his cohort seem to have already left. The world beyond these walls mean freedom. Means home. Because this place was their hell hole. Found camaraderie, yes. But not by preference.

This place was Aron’s peace.

 

 

 

He gives the guard a salute before turning to face the steps that lead to gravel that lead to the gates and runs through his head the best way back to Seoul. Bus probably. Buy a few extra hours... and then what?

A honk disrupts his thoughts.

A woman steps out of the car with a bright smile and an enthusiastic wave.

It brings a smile to his face too.

Sujin is just as beautiful as he remembers. Her mother unchanging as ever as she quickly exits the car and pulls Aron in for a hug. “Aron-ah,” she says, voice laden with affection. He’d be lying if he didn’t say he teared up a little bit.

“How have you been? I didn't expect you to come to pick me up.” The words tumble out of his mouth.

“Of course I did,” she answers, “who else would come pick you up.” In a true motherly fashion.

The warmth of summer blossoms in his chest. He thinks of how he had intruded upon Minhyun’s visit home one time and how graciously she had accepted his presence and treated him like her own.

“Thank you,” he says from the bottom of his heart.

She smiles and replies with a simple: “it is what family is for.”

Something inside Aron breaks.

( or heals. or like _kintsugi_ becomes lines with gold. )

 

 

 

Two years isn’t a long time. But it isn’t a short time either.

The drive home is relatively comfortable except for the one burning question at the back of Aron’s mind that nags him continuously.

Minhyun’s mother prompts with questions but there aren’t that many to ask. Ever since the Hwangs have learnt of Aron’s enlistment, he’s received correspondence from everyone but Minhyun and chalked it up to being busy establishing a name for himself. He talks to them almost as frequently as he talks to his own family.

It’s nice. Almost like nothing has changed. Until Aron notices the band on Sujin’s finger.

“Did you get married?” he gasps. “Without me?”

If her hands weren’t on the wheel he would have felt his well earned punch.

“No!” she protests and throws him a withering glare through the rear view mirror. “I got engaged. I wouldn’t hold a wedding and have you miss it. I would never hear the end of it.”

Aron crosses his arms and nods.

“Besides,” she says with the classic Hwang family look of mischievousness, “you need to sing at my wedding.”

Aron makes a face. “Your brother has a better voice for that.” It’s now or never his brain says. “Speaking of which,” he starts, mouth growing dry, “how is Minhyun?”

“Oh... you don’t know?” Minhyun’s mother sounds confused. Brows knit together as she looks at her daughter.

Sujin shakes her head.

Ten thousand thoughts race through Aron’s mind simultaneously.

“He doesn’t know because Minhyun didn’t want you to tell him. And then I think you just assumed he knew,” Sujin addresses her mother before giving Aron a glance. “My baby brother enlisted shortly after you did.”

Aron didn’t realize how tense he was. Entire body wound up until he exhaled and sagged into the seat. Only for more questions to bubble. “Why?” 

“He said he wanted to get it out of the way before he established himself,” his mother explains.

“But who knows what the true reason is,” Sujin asks, “you should ask him when he gets back.”

His mother chirps up again. “Soon. He’s discharged in two weeks.”

 

 

 

The rest of the ride Aron thinks postulated Minhyun’s reasoning. It both makes sense and it doesn’t. Two years is a long time for the public to erase your existence. Minhyun will have to start from scratch if he still wants a career in the entertainment industry. Most people choose to make a name for themselves and pray that they have enough devoted fans to embrace them when they return.

And Minhyun has potential. There were companies that were interested in him representing them in advertisements. His voice was pretty enough he could go solo and soothing enough to maybe even host a radio show.

Aron was so engrossed in this that he missed the ladies in the front discussing Sujin’s potential wedding plans. Sujin even mentioned how Mel took a liking to her fiancé and that’s when she knew it was okay to say yes ( if it ever came up and it did ). And how they were stuck multiple times in the heart of this congested concrete jungle. It isn’t until they pull up to an apartment complex that Aron realizes this isn’t right.

This isn’t anything like the Hwang family home he’s been to. Then again it has been two years. He looks around. This isn’t even Busan.

“I thought...” he starts as they walk towards the building.

“Mom wanted to check that everything is in order before her precious son comes home,” Sujin explains as they enter the elevator.

“Aww is someone jealous,” Aron teases.

Sujin shrugs. She’s matured. 

“She would do the same if I enlisted.” Which earns a nod. Sujin then covers her mouth and leans into Aron’s ear. “She’s already doing it while looking through potential apartments for my newlywed life.”

Aron chuckles under his breath as Sujin’s mother gives her a light and playful slap. The _ding_  signaling the correct floor saves her from further chastising. 

Minhyun’s mother punches in the passcode. Aron removed his shoes and trails in after them.

It’s a cozy apartment. Spacious enough for one person. A kitchen. A sizable living room. A corridor that probably leads to a bedroom and a bathroom.

There are still unpacked cardboard boxes in the corner.

Aron’s surprised when he recognizes them.

They are his. Ones he taped away after Jonghyun left. Threw all of his worldly possessions into these and instructed staff to send them back to the States and  yet somehow...

“They contacted him and asked if he could hold onto it,” Sujin says. Her mother had already sauntered off into another room possibly to ensure that everything was pristine for her son. Sujin’s hands are in her pocket as she gauges Aron’s expression as if she’s finding something to do with it. “Later on we figured out they didn’t want to pay for the shipment.”

“I’ll hire a company and move it out tomorrow,” Aron says. His face flushes. Shame creeps to the back of his neck and hates himself for burdening people he treasures.

“To where?” Sujin asks as she takes a step closer. It’s an innocent question. A loaded one. Aron has no answer.

“Home,” Aron finishes lamely.

Sujin sighs. It’s one of fondness.

“Hold out your hand,” she instructs. Aron does as he’s hold.

He’s not prepared for the cold edge of keys against his palm. He looks at her quizzically.

“Not me,” she shrugs, “he wanted you to have it. That night he left he debated about asking you to come home with him but thought you might want to return to your actual family.”

Something in Aron wells up.

“But then this phone call and your unannounced enlistment...” she trails off and shakes her head.

Something primal.

“He said in case you don’t have anywhere to go, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”

Something raw.

“Ah,” she sounds as if she remembered something important. “The gate code is the date of debut. Poor taste I know but we just never got around to changing it.”

It spills over. It’s not quite the hand he wants but it’s close enough.

 _There, there_. And soon enough it changes to a warmer hand. A gentler one as Sujin gets relieved by her mother. It’s comforting. Familiar. She directs his face to her shoulders and holds him the way any mother would.

When the last broken sobs make their way out of his system, she looks at him with pride, and tell him he’s just in time for dinner.

The laugh that follows is a light and hearty one.

 

 

 

Aron is mostly settled in. The apartment is still largely quiet.

Two years has been a long time.

He’s taken up to catching up on books he wanted to read while they had a busy lifestyle that didn’t allow for it. Mostly it’s been whatever he could find — namely, Minhyun’s fondness for poetry books.

Aron’s well aware as to why he’s doing this but he can’t help himself.

News reports of the red carpet for fashion week keeps getting played. The same clips of Minki walking down the catwalk being looped as it trends on every imaginable social media platform. Jihoon’s new song is a popular hit and is being played by every radio in South Korea. Dongho is headlining a musical. His face is blown up on buildings and the sides of buses.

The list goes on.

His own words to Jonghyun keep coming back. But it has been two years. Nothing is the same anymore. He can’t just drop in on them and pretend like it is.

Aron keeps his hands busy to occupy his mind.

He still doesn’t know what he wants to do. Or where to start.

 

 

 

The speakers crackle with the sounds of poor connection. As if Sujin’s mother was in a car.

“Is this a bad time to call?” Aron asks.

“It’s never a bad time for you, Aron-ah,” she says so sweetly it makes Aron smile. 

“I just wanted to ask the date of Minhyun’s discharge,” Aron explains as he stirs the ladle in the pot. He expertly tastes before throwing in another handful of salt.

“This weekend I believe,” she says. “Speaking of which do you want to come over. We’ll throw a party to welcome him home!”

“Of course,” Aron says, “I would never miss—”

There’s the familiar sequence of beeps of the door code being punched in. Aron frowns. “Are you at the door?” he asks, only to hear Minhyun’s mother giggle.

Aron sets down the ladle and walks towards the door.

The door swings open.

It’s not who he expects.

Two years isn’t a long time. But it isn’t a short time either.

The person is caught mid pose of taking off boots. There’s a sheepish expression coloring his face. He hasn’t grown taller but he’s put on weight in the form of muscle. Pale skin no longer so pale after being kissed so much by the sun in outdoor drills. His hair is that classic buzz that Aron’s has started to slowly grow out of. He’s still in full uniform with a bag slung over his shoulder but without a doubt it’s 

“Minhyun.”

The name slips from his lips like a sigh. Like a prayer. Like a breath he’s held too long and didn’t know he was holding.

The grin that parts Minhyun’s lips is radiant. His eyes sparkle.

Aron doesn’t know what to do with himself so he stays there: grounded.

But Minhyun does. He always does. That’s the thing about them isn’t it?

Minhyun closes the distance in a few strides and wordlessly pulls Aron’s into his arms. Holds him there. Aron’s hands are tentative at first when he places them on Minhyun’s back. Minhyun gives him a squeeze and he tightens his embrace. Minhyun smells like the dust and the soap of the barracks. Aron smiles to himself.

“I’ve missed you,” Minhyun says barely audible. Almost as if it was muffled against Aron’s hair.

Aron closes his eyes.

“I’ve missed you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> congrats to nu’est first win! this probably isn’t the sort of celebratory fic though sorry.


End file.
